(Si Puo Fare)
Title of an Italian Film
By: Iris P. Concepcion
A conglomeration of creative senses usually comes not in a traditional corporate setting but a loosened unleash of the visual, hearing and tactile senses via a sudden overturning of say, molten rock.
I have seen an Italian movie whose title is carried in this entry. It is unique in that it stars lovable retards doing "commie" cooperative work. This is what I mean by creative aggrupation of underground artistry. The only "normal" man supervising them is its head, a man who clashes occasionally with the doctor who handles their medical conditions.
I said this out loud inside the moviehouse: this could be the best "socialist utopia" one could ever conjure and it does not take much to make it work. The ingredients of a "coop" style of governing a business is there: grant, proper usage of fund source, democratic consultations with its members and equal distribution of profits.
It is specifically endearing as you empathize more with the men whose mental faculties are being harangued and questioned. They do more work; are prompt; mindful of deadlines. They value whatever is handed to them in a quirky, productive way.
The acting is supernatural: you hear these mentally-challenged gaining scores and scores of hits against their "specialist" counterparts. Eventually, they did things better even in non-opulent times. I think what got them going is this humanist way of finding some sense in individual production, the value of knowing right from wrong, and finding a personal fulfillment that you have contributed something to a new perspective of doing things.
A film talks, speaks, cajoles us into a sense of questioning, even onto ourselves. It is like a moving pulpit with the camera as its preacher. I have seen not a few in the audience shed tears. They might have seen themselves in the interplay of visuals as these retards "steal" their work that purposely make sense in the end.
This is shocking: the noveau-riche are implementing social reforms that are being mouthed for so long by socialists themselves. This sense of reverse (socialists fronting for capitalist ventures) is much more a moral play than being principle-driven. Such madness of twisted roles.
In the end it is clear: the maligned men are the "real" innovators.
These retards are the only sane people remaining in that huge circus of personal masquerades.
I would be squirming in my seat too if they can do "better" work, me with my degree and my great grasp of culture and history.
Sure, I'd feel stumped too. Let us hand it to these film makers, they never fail to make me go:
Splendid. Simply splendid.